


Empire of Dirt

by Katflap (Batman_in_Lingerie)



Series: Infinity [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Injustice: Gods Among Us, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Yandere!Clark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-30
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-01-13 08:15:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21240995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batman_in_Lingerie/pseuds/Katflap
Summary: He wanted to add that he didn't really have a choice in the matter. Kal’s expression told him to agree or face the consequences, but Kal still beamed all the same. After all, it was easy for him to ignore lies nowadays.He just stopped listening for them.---After 'it' happened, Clark changed. Bruce has to live with the consequences of that change.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For those of you wondering, this is based on one of the universes from my story 'Infinite', specifically the one in Chapter 5. If you would like greater context for this story, I would say you should read that before you start this, otherwise you are more than welcome to read this as a stand alone. Tis up to you! 
> 
> This story takes place before the events in Infinite.
> 
> I do implore you all to have a lil read of the tags before you start. This is not a happy story, and the themes it deals with a pretty heavy. Despite this, I hope you enjoy.

How many days had it been?

Three?

Four?

It was getting hard to keep track.

Meant it could be over a week.

The days tended to bleed into each other when he was in here for long enough. 

  
He’d try so hard to keep track of the time, only for it to devolve into a endless slurry eventually. It always did. Each moment either dragged or sped past him depending on the most negligible of things.

He managed to sleep earlier, eating away a few hours he hoped. Now, he had an inch on his neck, making the past five minutes seem like an eternity. 

Was it five minutes?

Was it an hour?

Was it a day?

He was cracking. 

He counted his breathes. One. Two. Three-

The panic in him was rising. His body flooding with adrenaline, preparing him to fight of fly, but that was just it. He couldn’t fight. He couldn't even move.

The door opened and all his muscles tensed. He was being given the choice again.

The one presented to him every six hours.

Stay here.

Or come out and play.

“What is you're decision?” The voice called out.

Fuck off.

It came out as nothing more than a garbled mumble, the gag in his mouth saw to that. The source of the voice stepped forward and eased the mask off his face, taking the gag from his mouth as well.

Bruce stared up at his own face and scowled. 

“What is you're decision?” The fake repeated. 

“F-” 

But he couldn’t say it. He couldn’t keep it up anymore. Every part of his body hurt. His arms from being pulled behind him for so long. His throat from the lack of water. His mind from the isolation. He could only take so much, Clark- no, _Kal_, knew he could only take so much. “I want to come out.” He said instead, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Good.” The fake said as he started to undo the restraints. “Kal El will be pleased.”

Of course he would be. 

He always was when Bruce was like this.

Broken.

Willing to do anything for any form of comfort. 

Any contact.

Even if it was from _ him _.

Bruce would hate himself for it later.

  
Right now however, he was too tired to care. In too much pain. He allowed himself to be handled as the fake released the final of the restraints. Once his arm was free, Bruce scratched his neck and heaved a sigh of relief.

He was free.

Well, as free as he could be.

“Kal El is in the bedroom.” The fake said, but Bruce didn’t wait for them to finish the sentence before he was already standing up on shaky legs, making his way towards the door. He needed to lie down. To eat. To do anything of his own accord and not have a machine doing it for him. 

But first he had to deal with someone.

He contemplated just ignoring him completely, but that never worked for long. Eventually he’d be sniffed out and confronted, and depending on his mood, Bruce would either be thrown back into the room, or onto the bed. He made his way to the bedroom.

Kal was in bed when he walked in, a fake tucked in beside him, kissing his neck with its usual mechanical indifference. Kal looked bored out of his mind, but didn’t get angry at the thing as he was sometimes prone to when it wasn't living up to his expectations. It was only when he heard Bruce walk in, that his face lit up, a smile spilling across his lips.

“Bruce!” He called out, hopping from the bed and shoving the fake to the floor in the process. It didn't try to save itself, it wasn’t able to, so its head hit the floor, snapping its neck in the process. Kal didn't so much as bat an eye as he turned and regarded the heap on the floor, he did however heave a sigh. “Can someone clean up the mess, please?” He yelled out, and a few more fakes scurried out from the side rooms, grabbing the body by its legs and dragging it away without a word.

Once the body was dealt with, Kal’s eyes went back to Bruce, wide and bright. “I missed you. How are you feeling?”

Dead inside. He almost said, but his body and mind were telling him that this wasn’t the time for rebellion, this was the time for recovery, so he blocked out everything he knew of the man before him. Told himself the lie that kept him together whenever he was in front of him.

This was Clark. They were acting. This was roleplay. Bruce was consenting. No one was dead.

The last part caught him and had to take a deep breath to school himself. Once he'd regained some amount of his composure, he stepped forward, falling against Kal, his head resting on his shoulder. “I’m tired.” He said honestly, and took some small pleasure in how Kal’s arms wrapped around him, holding him steady.

“Of course, my moon. Do you want a bath before bed? I’ll go get dinner prepared.” He said softly, stroking Bruce so gently that Bruce felt himself get lost in the touch, realised how much he had been craving it.

_Don't fall for it._

He shut out that part of his brain for the moment.

“Please…” He said softly, bringing his own arms around Kal.

Kal lifted him up easily, and glided them both across the room, setting Bruce on the bed before he kissed him softly on the forehead. “I’ll get everything ready, you rest here.” His voice was a gentle murmur in his ear, and as quickly as Bruce had heard it, it was gone. Kal had left the room, leaving Bruce alone once again.

He let out a low groan as he stretched himself out across the bed spread. It felt so good against his skin that he wanted nothing more than to envelop himself with the material. Even the smell was familiar, the same detergent Alfred-

He blocked out that part of his mind.

He half dozed as he waited for Kal to return. It was nice to simply lie down and rest his tired muscles. He would have gone to sleep then and there, if Kal hadn’t returned so quickly, tray in hand. Bruce almost commented about the lack of a fake carrying it for him, but didn't, the fight was thoroughly gone from him for the moment, so instead he pulled the sheets away, looking up at Kal through half lidded eyes.

“I didn't know what you fancied, so brought a selection.” Kal said, presenting the tray to Bruce. The smell was enough to rouse him, and Bruce had to quickly swipe the dribble of droll from his mouth. “A couple of pancakes, a croque monsieur, coffee and some fruit.” Kal was smiling again, and it hit Bruce harder than he was prepared for. It was a Clark smile, no malicious intent or ulterior motives. It was joy, pure and simple.

He sat up and cleared his throat, sending Kal a small smile in return. “Thank you.” He said earnestly, sitting back against the mountain of pillows as Kal lifted the tray up for him and set it on his lap.

“Any time.” He said, going to the other side of the bed and taking a spot next to Bruce. “The bath is running, should be ready when you’ve finished eating.” He looked away then, and Bruce knew from the way he bit his lip that he was going to ask something. Something that he knew deep down Bruce didn’t want to do, but was going to ask him to do anyway. “I was wondering… If I could join you?”

No.

Thankfully the bite of pancake in his mouth meant he hadn’t said what he wanted to say, allowing himself to think of a better response that wouldn't get him thrown back into the room. He took his time chewing, watching as Kal’s expression faltered, as though he too sensed Bruce’s answer even though it wasn't spoken. 

Kal held up his hands, gritting his teeth as he looked away. “You're tired, it’s fine.” He muttered. "Forget I asked."

But Bruce was aware a happier Kal was an easier to handle Kal, and maybe a bath would be enough for him for now, maybe it would let him have an evening of peace. “You didn't let me answer.” Bruce said instead, his cutlery hovering over his food.

Kal raised a brow at him, waiting for him to speak, and even in those few seconds he was waiting he looked impatient. “I don't mind you joining me.” Bruce said softly, going back to his food.

He wanted to add that he didn't really have a choice in the matter. Kal’s expression told him to agree or face the consequences, but Kal still beamed all the same. After all, it was easy for him to ignore lies nowadays.

He just stopped listening for them. 


	2. Chapter 2

After eating, he felt a bit more human.

He was still tired, but that would never leave his body so long as he lived. It was a part of him now, as much as his organs and his mind.

  
Kal led him to the bathroom, the spring in his step evident from the way he sauntered proudly through the Fortress. As if there was someone other than AI's and fakes to see it. 

Bruce for the most part struggled to keep himself upright, his body wanting sleep more than anything else. He rarely slept in the room. He'd get the occasional sedative if he was in there long enough, but when he awoke, he'd always be more exhausted.

The bath would help to relax him at least, and maybe whatever intimacy it provided would even help satiate Kal enough for Bruce to hopefully get a good night's rest, devoid of Kal’s incessant advances.

He could hope.

The room was warm with steam when they walked in, the water was mostly clear, but there were pockets of bubbles drifting around on top, soft pink in colour with a pleasant floral smell. He felt his muscles relaxing from the scent alone, but he was still on alert, his attention firmly on Kal.

  
He got undressed quickly, and Bruce could see his erection spring up when he lowered his pants. He should have been surprised by how aroused Kal was all the time, but he had been in the room for a while on this particular occasion, and along with everything else, he knew how unfulfilled Kal was sexually.

He wanted Bruce, body and soul, and he only ever received the body at most, and even then, it wasn't much anymore. 

He craved the sex they used to have, before everything changed and despite knowing that it would never happen again, he carried the vain hope that it would.

It never would, unless Bruce decided otherwise.

It was rare, but when he wanted something, really needed Kal to agree to something he didn't necessarily want to do, Bruce knew he could dangle sex over his head like a carrot. It would be hot, and fierce, replete with crooning and breathy moans. Everything he knew Kal craved, but he’d only get it if he did Bruce a small favour in return. 

Even on occasions where Kal was vehemently against the idea at first, all Bruce had to do to get him to agree was flaunt himself. He was waiting for the day that gambit would fail him, but so far, it never had.

Kal stepped into the water and Bruce followed after. The water scalded his skin, and he hissed in pleasure from the sensation. It soothed his muscles, it eased his mind, it even numbed him slightly to what was happening around him. He barely reacted to Kal taking his hand in his own, pulling him further into the water, to the side of the tub to sit beside him.

Bruce lowered himself into the water next to Kal, but very quickly he knew that wasn’t going to cut it. Kal was on his neck, sucking at the skin, his arms looping around Bruce’s waist, pulling him closer. Bruce tried to move to where Kal obviously wanted him to go, but any movement was greeted with Kal’s mouth on him, as though hungry for any scrap of Bruce’s skin on offer.

Eventually he managed to slide in between Kal’s legs, laying back against him. Kal moved his hips at the contact, pulling Bruce in even closer, and going back to kissing the side of his face, his hands trailing across the expanse of Bruce’s chest.

“You’re so beautiful, Bruce.…” Kal said, his hand moving further downward, towards his cock. He brushed past it, his fingers finding the skin of his sac and gripping him firmly.

He closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was home, at the Manor. His mantra repeating. This was Clark. They were acting. This was roleplay. Bruce was consenting. No one was dead.

But he couldn’t get hard, not now. Not like this. He didn't want Kal realising as much, so he pulled away, turning back to look at him. Kal raised his brows, not immediately objecting, especially when Bruce gave him his best sultry stare. “Did you want me to…?” He asked quietly, his own hand finding Kal’s erection and resting a finger on the tip.

His head fell back, his throat jumping as he swallowed hard. “Yes, Rao, _ yes _.” Kal practically gasped. “Bruce, please-”

Bruce tapped the side of the tub, and without hesitation Kal hopped up onto it. With the water obscuring his own crotch, he felt more at ease for the moment. Kal wasn’t going to notice a lack of arousal, especially with his own clouding his mind for the moment. Bruce hovered above his cock, his mouth barely open as he tried to get himself in the mindset for this. He knew it was coming and yet every time he had to do it, he was blindsided by how much he hated it. 

He looked up at Kal then, saw the way his hand twitched by his side. He wanted to push Bruce down onto him, and in a previous life, he would have done, knowing the line would have been set long ago between the two of them and that this was just part of a little game they'd sometimes play. A normal occurrence between two consenting adults.

But it wasn't that anymore.

They both knew it. 

Bruce supposed he should be happy Kal drew the line at actually raping him, but it didn't help that he could manipulate the situation until Bruce had no choice_ but _ to say yes. He also took some solace in the fact that even now, even like this, Kal wouldn’t force him, wouldn't push Bruce’s mouth onto himself no matter how much he wanted to. No, the ball was in Bruce’s court sexually, and whilst Kal hated it, it never stopped him from doing it.

It stoked something close to arousal in Bruce, and he tried to capitalize on that as he brought one hand to his own crotch, letting the feeling of hot water on his groin, mix in with the feeling of his fingers around his cock. He gripped Kal and brought his head forward to kiss the tip.

Kal slammed his hand onto the wall, shattering the surface of it.

Kal’s mouth fell open, and words tumbled out. “I’m sorry, I-” There was panic, etched across his face but Bruce knew it wasn’t because he was worried he’d scared Bruce. It was because he was worried Bruce would stop. “Please Bruce, please keep going. Please?”

Bruce didn't speak, but he did lower himself back down, sliding his cock between his lips. He held himself there and hummed gently. As he ran his mouth up and down, his mind wandered, it always did when he was pleasuring Kal. It would try and go to places to make things easier, things he’d long told himself not to think about, yet couldn’t help but go back to.

_“Do you think you used enough bubble bath there, Clark?” _

_Clark whirled on him, gulping as he looked between Bruce and the overflowing bath. “It wasn’t getting bubbly enough so I…” He made a face. “I may have used the whole bottle.” _

_Bruce however only rolled his eyes. “Of course.” He slowly approached, easing his hands on his hips. “Oh well. Good thing I happen to like my baths bubbly.” He kissed Clark on his neck. “Unlike someone else…” _

_“Hey, I like bubble baths just fine, but when it's too bubbly...” He made a face. “There is a fine line, is all.” _

_"Right, the line being, bubbly enough to keep me happy, but clear enough so that you can gawk at my naked body through the water.” _

  
_Clark’s cheeks grew pink. “You said it, not me.”_

He felt a gentle touch on his head. He was startled back and almost pulled away, but Kal’s hand was still on him. Not pushing, not keeping him there, just there, reminding Bruce of where he was. 

When he was.

He looked up at Kal through his lashes, sucking hard on his cock. Kal flinched like he was burned by the contact and brought his hand back to the bath edge and gripped it tightly. He groaned as Bruce kept sucking, his hips bucking up ever so slightly to meet Bruce’s mouth.

It didn’t take much longer for Kal to orgasm. He tried to warn Bruce, some string of gibberish, but before Bruce could react, he felt something hit the back of his throat. He wanted to pull off, but Kal’s hands were back, holding his head where it was, leaving Bruce no choice but to try and swallow around the intrusion. Kal moaned, pulling Bruce closer still, but he could barely breathe as it was, so against his better judgement, he pushed away from Kal sharply.

His grip on Bruce went immediately. He held his hand up and away, as though surrendering. He breathed in deeply as his dick now lay flaccid between them. How long it would remain like that was anyone's guess, sometimes, when the sex was particularly bad, Kal would get hard again almost immediately. As though even it knew that wasn’t good enough.

Bruce tried to offer a small smile, but the corners of his lips were failing to cooperate. “How was that?”

  
Even if it was bad, Kal would never say. He was like a supportive parent in that regard, always encouraging Bruce, no matter how poorly he performed. He offered his own smile in return, slipping back into the water and kissing him gently on the lips. “That was wonderful.” He said softly, going for Bruce's neck and sucking at his pulse point.

It was only a few minutes later that he could feel something poking his thigh. He would have rolled his eyes if Kal wasn't already grinding it against his thigh. His own penis was getting mixed signals all around from what was occurring, and his mind was muddled from everything else. Kal brought his hand to his cock, cupping him and pressing it firmly. “May I?” He said into his ear.

Bruce only nodded, not trusting his voice at the moment. He didn't want this. Not really. He only wanted it because it felt nice, because it stoked some long dead part of himself back into existence, and afterwards Bruce would have to burrow it back down in the deep recesses of his mind. Right now, however, he didn't have time to dwell on that, as Kal kept rubbing, kept kissing, holding him close, and murmuring so gently into his ear.

He wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling Kal against him, wishing for more of that friction, and Kal must have wanted it too as he provided it readily, bringing both their cocks up against each other as he gripped them in his hand and began thrusting in ernest. The heat, the warmth, the feeling, it all kept him steady and his mouth fell open, wanting to cry out.

He was so close, so close._ “Clark.” _

He realised his mistake too late, and his mouth snapped shut. He felt Kal go still on top of him. As he pulled back, Bruce saw the the way his jaw was set, saw the fierce anger in those eyes. 

“I-” he was panicking he realized. He didn't want to go back into the room, he didn't want it. _ Don't do it _. His breathing grew laboured. “I- don't- please-.” He didn’t know what he was actually trying to say, but he knew sometimes if he begged nicely enough, Kal would let him off. Give him the equivalent of a slap on the wrists and Bruce wouldn’t have to see the room.

Kal's anger evaporated the longer he stared at Bruce's fear stricken expression, leaving only a look of resigned disappointment, but for Bruce that was seldom better. He looked down at his hands, before leveling his stare on Bruce. “Would you prefer that?” He asked, his voice remarkably even.

Bruce didn't understand the question, much less enough to be able to give it an answer, so he clamped his mouth shut hoping silence was a valid option. Kal however looked annoyed at the lack of response and huffed loudly. “Answer me.”

“I don't-” Bruce swallowed. “What was the question?”

Kal rolled his eyes. “Would you prefer calling me ‘_Clark_’ when we…” he gestured at their bodies.

“I-” Bruce didn't know how to answer, his mind trying and failing to come up with an explanation for what was happening. Something close to hope, sparked up within him for a moment, before dying just as quickly. “I’ll do whatever you want me to, Kal.” 

Kal looked aggravated by the answer, his body teeming with pent up energy. “It doesn't matter what _ I _ want, what do _ you _ want, do you want to call me Clark or not? _ Tell me _.” 

Bruce would have retorted that he didn’t want any of this, but again, now was not the time for rebellion. So he just looked away, swallowing thickly. “I'm sorry I called you that name. It won't happen again.”

Kal didn't try to fondle Bruce again like a part of him had expected, instead he got up from the water and stepped out of the tub. Bruce stayed in the water for the moment, trying to gauge from Kal’s body language how we he was feeling. Tense shoulders, brusque movements, obvious erection. Bruce pursed his lips. Obviously, he had fucked up monumentally, but Kal wasn’t threatening to throw him in the room, so that was a plus.

He didn't want to be called Clark. Bruce knew that. Knew he hated the name. It reminded him of the man he once. The man he could no longer be.

It was one of the first things established when 'it' happened. He was to be referred to as Kal or Kal-El. 

Nothing else. 

Then again, he supposed, if it meant having Bruce be more invested in the sex, Kal was willing to put up with almost anything, including that.

It was the silence that got to him most. When Bruce would just lay there and pray for it to be over as soon as possible. It would remind him of a fake, of a doll, not a person, and despite being a monster, Kal always saw Bruce as a person, not a possession. He was allowed to make that choice with his body, and whilst Kal would pressure him to make certain choices over others, Bruce could say no if he really wanted to.

Kal would do anything to make him feel more comfortable. To make him feel okay with the situation despite how much Bruce had already told him he hated it.

Bruce saw that 'Clark' shaped olive branch for what it actually was. 

It was a trade. 

Bruce could make believe whatever he wanted whilst they fucked, despite the fact it would be like a knife in the gut for Kal every time he would, and Kal would get the gratifying sex he desired.

It was a terrible trade for Bruce, but he rarely got the better end of the deal. He wondered if he should have agreed to it, but something told him that it was a bad idea. His common sense probably. He knew dredging up images of Clark would only hurt him more. No, he was 'Kal' now. Clark may as well have been dead.

Once he’d toweled off, Kal turned back to him. “You want to stay in the bath for a little while longer?”

Bruce would say some time alone in the bath would be great, but he knew he wouldn't be left alone. Anywhere Bruce could potentially harm himself was monitored relentlessly by Jor El and the fakes if Kal wasn't there to do it in person, which he would be most of the time. He felt that by answering yes, he’d be confronted with either a fake watching him like a hawk for the remainder of his soak, or Kal himself. He didn’t like the idea of either, so he shook his head. “No, i’ll come out.”

Kal nodded, and picked up another towel, holding it out for Bruce. He took it and unfolded it, and whilst drying himself, tried to act as oblivious as possible to Kal’s staring, but that was hard with how close he chose to stand next to Bruce, his hands hovering near as though waiting for the slightest provocation to begin touching him again.

Bruce didn’t give him any, drying himself off as unceremoniously as possible. He dumped the towel on the floor when he was done and turned to Kal, raising a brow. “Shall we go to bed?”

Kal’s eyes were on his lips as he nodded to the question. He stepped aside, wanting Bruce to walk in front so he could stare at his naked body as much as he pleased as they walked. The body worship was something that used to excite Bruce, he’d relish how he could make Clark quiver with anticipation by simply unbuttoning his shirt.

Now it barely got through to him, with the layer of disgust laying in between. 

On the walk to the bedroom, he tried to prepare himself mentally for what was about to occur.

But sleeping with Kal was it’s own Hell, and trying to prepare for it was always a useless endeavour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhhh!
> 
> I feel so bad doing this to Bruce, but also, I find it heckin' hot, so I guess I'm a terrible person.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this chapter! Until next time! :D


	3. Chapter 3

The walk back to the bedroom was uneventful.  
  


Kal hadn’t tried to molest him on the way, thankfully. It was known to happen on occasions where Kal was feeling particularly confident that Bruce would reciprocate adequately, but perhaps tonight, even he was getting the impression that sex would be a bad idea, full of frustration and little pleasure. 

Then again, Kal wasn’t exactly one to avoid bad ideas, and Bruce doubted tonight would be an exception. 

When he stepped into the room, there were a few fakes roaming around, idly cleaning as they awaited Kal’s next instructions. It soon came in the form of a shout that shook the room and startled Bruce with its force. “_ Leave us. _”

  
The fakes quickly scattered, leaving them both alone. It was then that Bruce debated the idea of simply getting into bed, and letting this day finally come to a long sought after end.

But he knew what Kal would do if he did that. He would let him rest for a while, sure, but after he had deemed enough time to have passed, he would be on Bruce, kissing him until he was no longer able to pretend to be asleep. Bruce would then wake to those fervent eyes on him, and without ever actually asking, Kal would plead for the one thing he sought from Bruce more than anything else. 

That was always part of it. Through it all, Kal was never one to just ask for something; especially sex. If he ever did voice his want for something, it was always over something small, something where if Bruce did say no it wasn’t going to upset the tenuous balance of everything.

Balance. That was what their relationship was all about now. Keeping Kal happy but not destroying his own self worth in the process.

He still had his pride. Some days he wished he didn’t. Some days he wished he could just not care anymore. On those days, he’d entertain a certain fantasy, one in which Kal and his many doctors would make a mistake with his numerous medications, maybe an overdose, maybe an errant pill slipped in amongst the rest, but in the end it would do the same thing; it would allow Bruce to not feel anything anymore, simply exist detached from whatever went on around him.

That would be nice.

Those days weren’t often, but they did occur. It would usually be hours later that his self preservation instincts would kick in and he’d come to his senses. Despite everything, death still scared him. He didn’t want to die, he just didn’t want to exist here anymore either. It was that in between he sought; a way to be rid of this place, but also live a life he knew he was meant to have. A life with Clark. The man he once knew. The one he once loved.

But that was never going to happen. 

When ‘it’ happened, Clark changed. He changed in a way Bruce was unable to prevent nor able to ever anticipate. His morals shifted, and no longer was he a man who saw killing as an abhorrent act committed by only the most immoral of men. No, he started to see it as something Bruce in all his life was never able to condone, no matter the circumstance.  
  


A solution.

Once the first fell, there was no going back. Clark knew that, he embraced it even. He was Kal-El now, in name and title, and those who were against this new Superman, suffered the consequences.

The League. His family. Entire cities fell when Kal rose to power, and despite doing everything he could to stop him, to have him see reason, Kal was beyond it. He had broken so completely that Bruce could only stare at the pieces, unable to put them back together into anything resembling the man he once knew.

He needed to not think about his family, his friends, especially now. Whenever he did, the fire that burned within him would flare up and most of the time that led to another trip to the room. He tried to focus on something positive, something that would help him keep hold of himself when all hope seemed lost. 

He only had one positive he could think of, but it was something at least. 

Damian.

It was Kal’s one single act of charity. Keeping his son alive.

When ‘it’ happened, and the first people started to fall, Damian was just as against it as everyone else, perhaps more so than even Bruce himself. He only backed down once it was clear that trying to fight Kal on this would only end in tragedy, and when the trials began and every other member of his family were killed for treason, Damian was the only one who lived. 

He remembers that day vividly. Sitting next to Kal, restrained and gagged as he was forced to watch as one by one every person he ever cared about was executed before him. 

Damian had been the last, walking through the corpses with a look Bruce knew well, he had it in his own eyes that day. Righteous fury so fierce it swallowed over every other emotion in its wake. He had been ready to fight, to offer once last act of defiance, but just as he was opening his mouth to scream one last time in the face of insurmountable terror, Kal waved his hand and with a casual indifference, informed all those present that Damian was free to leave. To carry on in Gotham, and take over the mantle of Batman now that Bruce had officially _ retired _. 

At first Bruce couldn’t believe it. He had thought it was a joke. Some sick depraved act of humour that Bruce could only assume was done to try and break him, but over the years Kal was true to his word, and for the most part, he left Damian alone. He would still keep an eye on Batman’s activities, either for curiosity's sake or for concern over his own well being should Damian ever try to upset his regime, but aside from that, Damian was free to live his life. 

If Kal was feeling particularly kind he would even inform Bruce how Damian was doing. Bruce lived for these moments. Despite their limited contact, Bruce knew the only reason he was able to hold it together, was due in part to the fact that he knew Damian was still out there.

But the fear that he could still lose him was ever present in his mind, and what was worse, Kal knew that. Should Bruce ever push too far, should he tip that delicate scale too much, Damian’s head was the one on the block, not his. 

He tried to think, was that day the last time he’d seen his son? Aside from the few photos he’d managed to spot whilst Kal was working, or the newspapers Kal would occasionally allow Bruce to read should he behave, the last time he’d seen his son had been on that day, fifteen years ago. 

It didn’t feel like fifteen.

If it weren’t for Kal informing of the days and years as they passed, he would have no way of keeping track of them all. In the fortress, the beginning of one day and the ending of another ceased to have any bearing on his life and as such, time itself was no longer relevant. It was an endless road that Bruce couldn’t seem to stop walking along, no matter how much he wished otherwise. 

Even his own body failed to show any evidence of time’s passing. He’d search for hours for a wrinkle, a grey hair, any thing that showed that time was in fact still moving and not at a complete standstill. Yet, no matter how long he looked he never found one. No, with the world in Kal’s palm, things like aging were problems for other people, and not a man who the ruler of the planet deemed too precious to kill.

The ruler who was currently making his way to the bed and laying down on top of it, patting down the linen as if the single wrinkle on its surface was the only thing keeping Bruce from approaching it. 

It was the promise of soft sheets and warmth that eventually led to him crawling up beside Kal and falling onto the pillow next to him. Kal turned to his side to face him, his eyes trained on Bruce. It was a peaceful moment, one that might have held some semblance of intimacy if Bruce wasn’t certain Kal was waiting for just the right moment to descend upon him again. 

He was right, just as Bruce started to feel his muscles loosen and his eyes droop, Kal’s lips found his. He debated rolling over, calling out a rough ‘goodnight’ before promptly falling unconscious, but again, he knew he would simply be delaying the inevitable, so with his last scraps of energy, he lifted his hand up and placed it on Kal’s jaw, neither pushing him away nor drawing him near.

That was all that was needed, at that simple touch Kal’s kisses grew firmer and his hands reached for Bruce, cupping his face in his hands. 

The longer it went on for, the more Bruce found himself easing into it. He found himself slipping, and he would hate himself for it later, but right now he wanted to live in this moment of pleasure. Of quiet comfort.

Kal pushed him onto his back and climbed over him, trailing down his body with hot presses of his lips against his skin. Friction and warmth were the source of the first hitch in Bruce’s breath, and Kal’s eager mouth working against him caused the rest that followed. His hips moved as though they were no longer a part of him, and just like the previous occasions they had done this, he began to feel himself detaching, drifting away until all that was left was the pleasure of the moment and his mantra on repeat in his head.This was Clark. They were acting. This was roleplay. Bruce was consenting. No one was dead.

  
  


When Kal had gotten the lube, or just when he had prepared him was beyond his recollection. Somewhere between the kisses and the warmth, Kal had entered him, pumping into him with firm, quick movements. He hunched over Bruce, quiet pleas falling from his lips, his name always there, in and amongst them.

“Bruce, please, please, Bruce,_ please _-” 

Bruce however was keen to keep evidence of his pleasure guarded within himself. To show it would be to give Kal what he wanted, and the anger within him always tried its best to conceal his pleasure, no matter how nice the slide of his body felt. 

His resolution crumpled as Kal shifted his position, a quiet gasp escaped him and the way Kal’s face lit up said everything. With the utmost precision, he kept his thrusting to that one spot, and Bruce bit his lips, not wanting to let anything else out. He didn’t deserve it. Not tonight. 

Kal’s lips were on him, and he worked at Bruce’s mouth open, his hands going to his nipples and tugging at him. 

Bruce let out a breathy moan, and the thrusting grew harder, faster. He moaned again, his head falling back and Kal moaned right along with him. He hated when it felt too good. When Kal was desperate and sloppy, he was able to keep himself together, able to prevent such a slip in his concentration, but as it stood he was feeding right into what Kal sought, and with a frightening stab of clarity he realised he didn't care, he wanted that feeling too. That memory-

_“Clark please, I need it, I need it-”_

_Clark pulled back for a moment, a smirk on his face as he slowed down his thrusting for just a moment. “What was that, Bruce?”_

_   
Bruce clenched desperately around him. He reached for Clark and tried to pull him close. He needed his warmth. His touch. “I need it, please.”_

_Clark’s smile grew brighter as his thrusts grew faster and faster until-_

  
“Kal.” He gasped, as he pulled him close. “Please .”   
  


“Oh, _Rao_.” Kal groaned and Bruce could hear something breaking next to him. Maybe the head board, maybe even the bed itself, but in that moment he didn’t care what Kal broke so long as he could ride that growing wave building up within him. 

He came with a shout and Kal’s own yells thundered out around the room. In that moment, all the built up tension in Kal's body left him and as nothing more than loose limbs and tired smiles he fell down next to Bruce. After a moment, he brought his hand up and caressed his face. “Good?”

Bruce didn't want to speak. He gave a nod. 

Kal thankfully didn't desire that particular ego boost tonight, after all, he’d already received the one he wanted. He came forward and kissed Bruce gently on the forehead, wiping the sweaty locks of hair from his face before lifting the sheets over their bodies. “Goodnight, my moon.”

The lights were soon off, plunging the room into total darkness. Bruce wanted to sleep, but he couldn't. He didn't even realise he was crying until he felt the first tear slide down his cheek.

He didn't know why he did it to himself, especially with how much it would hurt him after. To be reminded of those times, only to be violently pulled back to the present when the haze of pleasure faded. 

After all was said and done, when Kal would fall asleep, content and happy, and Bruce would lay beside him, staring up towards the ceiling as his mind tried desperately to keep itself together, he’d be confronted with the truth of his life. 

That this was not Clark. 

They were not acting. 

This was not 'roleplay'. 

Bruce was not consenting. 

Everyone was dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it folks! A complete downer of an ending, but then again, what we're all of you expecting. Something happy????? HAH!
> 
> Anyway, I don't know if i'll write more with these two, it really depends on all of y'all. At the moment my writing inspo has sort of stalled out and stress from work has a lot to do with it. (it's nearing Christmas and I work in retail. December is pretty much my worst nightmare ngl)
> 
> So! Hopefully this will tide y'all until I next post. May be in December if I have time, or may be in January. We shall have to see!
> 
> As always, let me know what you thought in the comments. Comments and kudos fuel me more than I can ever express and I appreciate all of you for leaving them <3 Till next time! x

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this first part, the next two chapters will be more meaty in terms of content, and this first chapter was just to get the ball on the road after hearing so many of y'all mention how much you wanted a little continuation of this AU in particular.
> 
> Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you all for your support x :)


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